


love somebody like you

by intoxicatelou



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5 + 1, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Denial of Feelings, M/M, MIT Peter Parker, Mutual Pining, Nick Fury is Not Amused, Not Canon Compliant, Peter is 20 and Tony is 20 and it's a complete mess, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), because why not add soulmarks into the mix of college hormones???, more a simmer than a slowburn, pining openly and aggressively, slight D/s undertones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-09-18 20:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20318860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/pseuds/intoxicatelou
Summary: You signed the accords when you turned 18, SHIELD can authorize certain restrictions and requirements of your service in the case of a classified emergency. The arrangements have already been made. Your roommate, Tony Stark, alias Anthony Edwards, will be moving in tomorrow. Details about your mission and Tony’s alias have already been uploaded onto your computer.Peter opens his mouth, but no words come out.Mr. Stark? Roommates?His brain struggled to catch up with the reality that he would be living with the twenty-year old version of his mentor and unsolicited crush.or five times Tony was Peter’s roommate and one time he was his soulmate instead.Starker Bingo Fill: Roommates AU





	1. pretty boy

**Author's Note:**

> hello! big love to feyrelay for helping me concept design this on discord, and giving me the wonderful idea for making it 5+1 and also for throwing soulmarks into this because why the heck not! this is for my starker bingo card fill, Roommates AU, and i will post my card once the fic is done! ~ title is inspired by the song "love somebody like you" by joan. 
> 
> I also will be making a moodboard per chapter <3 because young! Tony is beautiful and this AU is literally so close to my heart. also, currently unbeta'd bc my beta is in London for vacation, so all mistakes r mine!

“You don’t understand, this isn’t my housing assignment!” 

Peter’s standing at the front of the MIT Housing and Residential service desk, ignoring the growing line behind him as he gawks at his room placement. _ Baker 617. _This was not possible. There was no way. Peter remembered the Housing lottery far too vividly, it had single handedly been one of the worst nights of his college life. MJ had tried to calm him down over Facetime, but it hadn’t worked. His lottery number was despicable. He was lucky he had even managed to get a single in the first place, even if it was in the shittiest dorm on campus. 

“I’m supposed to be living in Random Hall, I’m sure you’ve got me confused with someone else. There’s no way I’m living in Baker.” He tries to sound less hysterical to the red-head manning the service desk. 

“Dude, Baker is the best dorm on campus. You seriously lucked out. Housing moved some stuff around this summer, and some students had their assignments changed. Didn’t you get the email?” The red-head, who’s name was apparently “Ted”, replies monotonically. 

“No, no… I didn’t get the email.” Peter responds, still anxious. “I guess you’re right. I got lucky. Wow. A single in Baker.” He tries to smile, pocketing his keys. 

“Well no. 617’s a double. You’ll have a roommate.” 

“A _ roommate? _ ” Peter’s voice jumped an octave, and he heard the girl behind him huff with impatience. No, no, _ no _. Peter had loved most things about his freshman year at MIT but having a roommate had not been one of them. The anxiety of hiding his secret identity from his paranoid roommate had been nerve-wracking, not to mention the sexiling. God. The sexiling sucked. Fuck Jaret and his heterosexual girlfriend. Who even spelled their name that way? With a t? 

“Are you sure I can’t get my old room back?” Peter tries, one last time, but Ted just shakes his head, clicking at things on his computer. 

“Sorry bro. No can do.” 

Peter sighs, and grabs his suitcase before walking out of line. He tries to ignore the murmurs of students who heard his squabbling, _ Who the fuck would complain about living in Baker? _before making the short trek towards his dorm. 

+

Peter’s doesn’t mean to drop his suitcase, but the room… is so _ big. _ Like half the size of May and his apartment big. There are two twin sized beds and desks, similar to Peter’s freshman dorm, but there was also a funky green couch-bench thing in the middle of the room, not to mention a sink near the door. It wasn’t anything comparable to the room Tony gave him in the compound up-state, but still it was bigger than any of the other doubles he’d seen. 

WIth red brick walls and a second floor view, Peter feels the hysteria of having an unknown roommate dim. It was hard to feel shitty about his living situation when the huge windows on the opposite side of the wall opened onto the picturesque views of the Charles River he’d heard about on the brochure Mr. Stark had slipped him senior year. Come to think about it, Baker was Tony’s freshman dorm, if he remembered the Tour Guide’s fun fact correctly from orientation. 

The thought sends a shadow of pink creeping up his neck as he begins unpacking. 

+

It was barely five by the time Peter finishes unpacking. His roommate, according to the email he’d gotten _ after _his trip to Residential services, was Anthony Edwards. Anthony was a transfer student, didn’t provide a cell phone number, and had yet to move-in. It was only Saturday and they’d allotted the entire weekend to let students move-in, so if anything Peter was glad he wouldn’t have to worry about changing in alley at least for tonight’s patrol. 

He’d taken the bed on the left side because it had better access to the window, which was always helpful, just in case Peter needed to sneak out quickly. His side isn’t very personal, not like some of the other rooms he’d seen, but that’s mostly because Peter doesn’t have much stuff. However, his sheets had small spiders on them with a comforter to match (a graduation gift from May) and his signed Iron Man poster were more than enough to feel like home. His shelves were pretty bare with the exception of a mini Spider-Man made out of legos and a framed picture of Uncle Ben. He’d even strung up some red christmas lights against the brick walls to add some more ambience in case he ever needed it. 

“Glad you’re finally listening to my advice about sex lighting” is what MJ says when he facetimes her to show her his room. Peter rolls his eyes, flopping back on his bed, cringing at the way the bed creaks. She cackles at him.

“It’s not sex lighting it’s just for… ambience” Peter protests. 

“Yeah, ambience for when you get _ dicked down. _” MJ laughs as Peter blushes, groaning into his pillow. 

“Given my luck with being sexiled, if anyone’s getting laid in this room, it’s going to be my roommate. “ 

“Who knows, this Anthony guy could be single. And cute. Nice roommates exist, Peter.” MJ reminds him. “You know, being roommates was a really important part of Liz and I’s relationship, even though we went to highschool together. To think, the housing lottery led me to find my soulmate --”

Peter zones out a little, having heard the story a million times. It’s funny, because he originally thought that they were going to be terrible roommates, but they had gotten pretty close in the first few months at Brown. It only got better when Liz walked in while MJ was changing and recognized the number on her lower back immediately because it’d been the day her dad had been arrested. She’d shown MJ the number on her ribcage, which happened to be the day MJ had committed to Brown over MIT. It only took a graze of MJ’s finger over Liz’s rib for the black number to turn red, confirming the match. 

“-- anyway, my point is this Anthony could be good for you. Especially if he goes by_ Tony.” _ MJ teases. 

“I’m hanging up if you bring up Mr. Stark.” Peter declares, ignoring the way his chest blooms at the name. “I haven’t talked to him since the beginning of summer anyway. It’s been like. Three months.”

“And how does that make you feel?” MJ asks, in her best therapist voice.

  
“It makes me feel... nothing. Nothing. Because it shouldn’t make me feel anything. He’s my mentor. Nothing else. ” Peter says, trying to believe his own voice. 

“Peter, I can see you trying not to pout. It’s okay to admit that you miss him, it comes with the territory of having a crush --”

“I don’t have a crush!” Peter cuts MJ off, ignoring the way she frowns at him. “Also, I should go get dinner. It’s like 5.” 

MJ doesn’t say anything else, rolling her eyes at Peter’s clear attempt to avoid the conversation, before ending the call. 

+

The thing is, Peter does have a crush. He just doesn’t want to admit it, because well, it’s embarrassing. It’s embarrassing how much Tony does it for him, like how he’s currently jerking off just because he’d found out at dinner from some upperclassman that the legendary Tony Stark had indeed lived in Baker his freshman year, specifically _ Baker 617. _He hadn’t wanted to believe them, but he’d looked it up himself when he’d come home, because he couldn’t help the thrill it drove through him. 

It’s almost too easy to imagine telling Tony, calling him just to ask if he’d hysterically had anything to do with this. Peter could imagine his laugh, waving it off as a coincidence, maybe saying something cheesy like Peter’s got big shoes to fill. _ You know what they say about big shoes, _Peter would say if he was actually confident about his seduction abilities. Maybe Tony would regale him with a wild story about Baker 617, like how he set off the fire alarm because he tried to build a robot in his closet. Maybe about how he had a knack for seducing coeds even though he was only 15 and far younger than anyone else. Maybe about how he’d lost his virginity in the very bed that Peter was currently fisting his cock in. 

“F-Fuck.” Peter moaned, into the empty dark, coming all over his stomach at the very thought of Tony sliding deep inside a pretty twenty-something, wishing it was him instead. His phone buzzed, and Peter’s so dazed in the afterglow he almost thinks that it’s Tony before he looks and realizes its just his alarm reminding him to head out to patrol. Peter’s heart dips at that, because as much as he hated to admit it, he missed the older man. Mr. Stark had been pretty good about staying in touch with Peter, especially after Thanos. While the occasional calls and text messages weren’t anything compared to spending time with him in person, Peter liked to know Tony was still thinking about him, that he wasn’t the only one who remembered. So it’d been a bit strange that Peter had only had seen the older man once the entire summer, and had yet to hear back from him in anyway. He’d sent a text, asking if everything was okay, and had gotten a reply back from Pepper saying Tony was in some business abroad, and would be busy for the next couple of months. It’d hurt but it wasn’t something Peter could do anything about. If he spent more time than usual patrolling this summer, well, Tony wasn’t around to lecture him anyway. 

Peter shucked of his shirt, using it to clean the mess as it cooled uncomfortably, stopping a second to stare at his black soulmark on the inside of his thigh. He pressed his fingers against the number, _2001_0810_ _. Not many people had seen it, because of the intimate positioning of his mark, and if anything, Peter found it weird that his soulmark happened to be his own birthday. It was rare to have a birth-mark, there were only a handful of recorded instances. Science had yet to discover the meaning behind what made birth-marks so special, but Peter liked to pretend it meant that his soulmate connection would be even stronger than normal. That there would be fireworks when they kissed, and Peter would feel starstruck the second his mark turned red. 

_ It’ll all work out _ , Peter thinks. _ I just have to find him. _

+

Peter never realizes how much he misses New York and its skyscrapers until he’s swinging back to campus, wasting way more webfluid than necessary because of the awkward sizing of the buildings. It was a little after three in the morning and his patrol had been pretty smooth, aside from one grand auto theft attempt on a minivan and a purse-snatching near main street. He’d tried to disguise his voice for the purse-snatching, because he was pretty sure he recognized the girl from his physics seminar last semester. 

“Karen, make note to add voice disguises for the next suit-update.” He says, switching the suit to Incognito mode as he scales Baker until he finds his window. 

Peter climbs into his dark room, pulling off his mask, and dropping down onto his bed. He presses the center of his suit, letting it decompress around him, about to kick it off completely except then he hears a cough. Peter doesn’t think, just acts on instinct which translates roughly into jumping onto the ceiling, when his table lamp flickers on and he’s staring right at Nick Fury’s eye patch. 

“Nice to see you too, Parker.” Fury responds, when Peter doesn’t say anything, still stuck to the ceiling because it’s _ Nick Fury. _“You can unstick yourself from the ceiling, Spider-man. I’m just here to talk.”

“Oh.” Peter blinks dumbly, unsticking his hands and doing a far from graceful backflip onto his bed, which creaked loudly. “Right. So, what can I do for you Mr. Fury.” 

“I’m here on confidential business. The clearance level for what we’re dealing with is so high, the only reason I’m sitting in your dusty ass dorm room is because the situation itself insisted on involving you.”

“The situation —?” Peter begins to ask, only to be shushed. 

“Listen, what I’m about to tell you is a secret with millions of dollars at stake. Now I have it on good authority from Pepper Potts, that you would understand, especially since it involves your mentor, Tony Stark.” 

Peter’s blood runs cold, thinking back to Thanos, and Tony’s heartbeat slowing down in front of him. He chokes back his fear, stammering, “Oh my god. Is Mr. Stark okay? Did he — is he sick? Did he — _please don’t tell me he_ —”

“Peter, he’s alive.” Fury cuts him off and Peter sucks in a hard breath, his hands still shaking. 

“Can I see him?” Peter asks, because as much as he trusts Fury, if Tony’s involved in something that’s this high security, he wants to get a face to face. 

“Yes, you can.” Fury sighs, “But it’s complicated. Tony has been compromised.”

“Compromised?” Peter tries to take deep breaths, “Mr. Fury, I don’t want to be rude but can you just rip the bandaid off? What’s going on with Mr. Stark?” 

Fury isn’t affected by Peter’s outburst, doesn’t even blink before continuing. “Ever since we retrieved Thanos’s gauntlet, we’ve been learning even more about the infinity stones. Stark recently was experimenting with the Time stone, which was on loan to him from Dr. Strange at SHIELD’s request. He was hoping to artificially mimic the properties of the time stone to create a more sustainable time travel device. We last heard an update about the project in early May, with reports saying a test model would be completed within the next few weeks. However, we didn’t hear back from Tony until July, and by hear back I mean, Maria Hill and I paid your favorite billionaire a visit, fully intending on reminding Stark of the millions of government dollars and hours that went into authorizing such a project. Except, when we got there we realized we had a much bigger problem on our hands than Stark procrastinating on a time travel device.”

Fury paused, looking away from Peter for a minute. “Parker, before I tell you what’s going on, I need you to understand how central Tony Stark is to SHIELD, the UN, the people of the world. There’s no one less excited to be telling you this because personally I think Stark’s ego doesn’t need any more inflating but it’s true. Stark Industries bankrolls almost all of SHIELD’s special projects, outside of government spending, such as the Avengers. After Thanos, there was a certain group of world leaders who thought all superheroes should be put into forced retirement, that the accords were a hoax. The only reason you still get to patrol is because Tony fought against them. When Tony single handedly put his life on the line to save half of the planet’s population and succeeded, the way the world saw him changed. He wasn’t just another super-hero anymore, he was the man who answered the prayers of billions. He was the man who did something about the Blip. If you were to ask the Average american who is currently more powerful, Tony Stark or our current president, 91% of Americans would answer Tony Stark. And if asked, if the fact is upsetting in anyway, 89% of them answer No. What I mean is, if Tony Stark were to run for president, he could win with his eyes closed. Hell, some people might write-in his name with the next election anyway. He’s a monument of hope, politically and in some parts of the world, religiously speaking.” 

Peter doesn’t know what to say at the torrent of information Fury had thrown at him, not because it was surprising, but just because it was strange to hear it again from someone who wasn’t himself. Peter had grown better about the hero-worship in the last couple of years when it came to Tony, especially after spending hours working in the lab next to him. If anything, those original feelings had bloomed into something tight, like Peter knew he would follow Iron man anywhere, but not because he was Peter’s favorite superhero, but because Peter adored who the man was on the inside. 

“This is all to say, if what I’m about to tell you gets out, we would be dealing with a wave of mass panic. Stock prices would plummet, and our fragile economy would be back to where it was when half of the population was dust. This is a matter of national security, Parker. Do I have your word?”

Peter nods solemnly, hoping it wasn’t anything _ bad _ bad. Like, Tony being trapped in between dimensions. Actually, that sounded exactly like something which would be _ bad _bad.

“You uh you have my word.” Peter manages to say, despite the wave of anxiety running through him.

Fury hands him a picture, and Peter frowns. He hadn’t seen this specific photo before, but he’d googled plenty of photos of Tony from his younger days to recognize the smooth face, the trademark play-boy grin. He looked good then, and had only aged better. “It’s a nice photo, Mr. Stark must’ve been like twenty here — Not that I would know or anything, just a wild guess.” 

Fury raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything else on the subject. “He is 20 in this photo. Now tell me, do you think this photo was taken recently? ”

“Um. Well depends on how you define recently —” 

“The answer is No, Parker. You wouldn’t think that.” Fury rolls his eyes, before standing up from where he was leaning on Peter’s desk. “Except that this photo,” Fury grabs the photo from Peter’s hands and holds it up to Peter’s face, for dramatic effect, “was taken three days ago.” 

Peter’s eyes widen, flitting between Fury and the photo of young Tony, not processing _ three days ago. _ Three days ago? But Mr. Stark’s not twenty, he’s fifty-five, Peter knows because he can never forget it, the age-difference the main reason the older man won’t ever do anything about the tension Peter’s felt ever since Titan, the way sometimes he just looks at Peter in the lab, as if he can’t imagine being anywhere else, not to mention the touches and the time he called Peter _ baby _ after Peter had a panic attack, and —

“Peter, look at me. I know this is a lot to process.” 

Peter snaps out of analyzing every memory he’s had with Mr. Stark over the last couple months, and stares again at the picture of the young man in front of him, who was also Tony Stark just not Peter’s Tony Stark. 

“Who else knows?” Peter asks, worry being replaced by curiosity as to why he’s suddenly involved. 

“Me, Agent Maria Hill, Pepper Potts, Colonel Rhodes, and now you, at Stark’s insistence. He wanted you to know from the very beginning, but didn’t have a good enough reason until recently.” 

“What’s the reason?” 

“Stark has proven challenging to keep contained, while we figure out a solution to reverse the effects of the Time stone. Dr. Strange and Dr. Banner are leading point on this, so believe me when I say we have our best people on it. It’s just taking longer than expected, since we still don’t understand much about the stone.”

Peter nods, letting Fury continue. “While we’ve been keeping Stark in a government safehouse, he has been proven difficult to manage. He has all the knowledge of being fifty, combined with all the bodily sass of a twenty year old. It’s clearly not a good long term solution, and we can’t have Stark losing his goddamn mind anytime soon. However, we can’t just let him loose into the world without an alias and a proper handler to make sure he stays under the radar. This is when Tony suggested we bring you into the conversation.” 

“But I’m not a Handler? I know Clint has experience —“

“With world class assassins. This is Tony Stark we’re talking about. It’s a different skill set, one which SHIELD believes you have in spades.”

“Mr. Fury, I really appreciate the offer, “ Peter protests, “But between patrolling and schoolwork and college, I just don’t think I have the time to help the way you need me to help?”

“Bold of you to assume you have a say in this, Parker.” Fury sneered, and Peter doesn’t know how to respond to Fury using a meme reference to intimidate him. “You signed the accords when you turned 18, SHIELD can authorize certain restrictions and requirements of your service in the case of a classified emergency. The arrangements have already been made. Your roommate, Tony Stark, alias Anthony Edwards, will be moving in tomorrow. Details about your mission and Tony’s alias have already been uploaded onto your computer.” 

Peter opens his mouth, but no words come out. _ Mr. Stark? Roommates? _His brain struggled to catch up with the reality that he would be living with the twenty-year old version of his mentor and unsolicited crush. 

Fury just smirks at him, “Glad you understand, Parker. Oh and one more thing, given the seriousness of this arrangement, SHIELD thinks it would be a good idea if you limited your patrolling to once a month.” 

“Wait what — Once a _ month?! _” Peter yells indignantly, his eyebrows shooting up. “You can’t control my patrols —” 

“Actually, we can.” Fury responds, almost gleefully. ”Stark has already manually set the restrictions so your suit will only be active for one calendar day per month. It was part of the deal he cut in order to be released. And unless you want to go back to the onesie and risk your identity being revealed, that’s how it’s going to be. Once a month patrols. Your priority until we figure out how to get Stark back to normal will be making sure his twenty-year old ass isn’t getting into any trouble.” 

“This isn’t real.” Peter says, weakly, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Have fun baby-sitting Iron Man, Spider-man.” Fury is actually smiling when he pats Peter’s head as he walks past Peter’s shocked expression and out of his room, the door closing behind him with a small click.

+

Maybe it was the stress or shock tiring him out, either way Peter sleeps like the dead that night. He doesn’t remember most of his dream, only that he was half hard, imagining a certain twenty-year old’s smooth face looming over his own. He almost reaches down to palm himself in his boxers, eyes still closed, not ready to wake-up just yet, before someone coughs and Peter’s super-hearing picks up the second heartbeat in the room. 

His eyes fly open, blinking away sleep, as he sits up and takes in the no longer empty right side of his dorm room and its occupant. 

“You’re finally awake.” Mr. Stark says, all twenty years of him laid out on a dorm bed, flipping through a physics textbook, looking every bit like a college student from his dark skinny jeans to his docs. “You know I helped edit this textbook? And now I’m going to have to use it for class?” 

Peter tries to find the words, as Mr. Stark closes the textbook, and turns to face Peter, propping up his head with his left arm. “You’re freaking out. I knew this was a bad idea.” 

“No, it’s just — you —” Peter stammers, trying to wrap his mind around how Mr. Stark still sounded like _ Mr. Stark _ even though his voice was just a little bit higher, and didn’t have any of its usual gravel. “You’re — you’re _ twenty _.” 

“Well technically 19.897 according to FRIDAY’s age analysis, but SHIELD thought it best to round up, for practical reasons.” Mr. Stark says, his eyes flickering over Peter’s naked chest, and Peter immediately regrets not wearing a shirt to bed, even after Fury had told him that his mentor would be moving in today. 

“For practical reasons. Right.” Peter repeats, brain still stuck in a loop at the way Mr. Stark’s staring at him now, brown eyes studying him.

“You’re still freaking out. Look, I know it’s weird. But it doesn’t have to be.” Mr. Stark tries and Peter can’t help it but he lets out a hysterical laugh, running a hand through mussed bed-hair, ignoring the scream rising inside of him. 

“This is weird, like _ so weird. _ You have no idea what I’m going through right now, just seeing you sit there, _ twenty years old _, oh my god — “ Peter babbles, and Mr. Stark actually looks a little concerned. Peter doesn’t know what to say to make it better, because he clearly can’t tell him the truth, which is to say he’s wholly unprepared for how beautiful Tony Stark is, even at twenty, how Peter wants nothing more than to taste the salt of his smooth, beardless jawline. 

“We’re roommates so you’re going to have to get used to it, kid.” Mr. Stark snaps back, moving off the bed in a fluid movement and crossing his arms. 

Peter all but chokes, hearing Mr. Stark call him _ kid, _as if he wasn’t a kid himself. “You can’t call me a kid anymore, considering.”

“Considering that I am one. I’ll give you that one, Parker.” Mr. Stark’s still looking at him, eyes surprisingly weary for someone who’s supposed to only be twenty. “Look, if you’re done freaking out, I’d love to explain how exactly we got here. Over Brunch. What’dya say roomie? Or should I say froomie? Since we’re already friends? Unless you hate me now that I’m not cool and fifty-five.”

Peter snorts at that, reaching underneath his bed to pull out a shirt from his drawers. “I could never hate you, Mr. Stark.”

“Ah ah ah, that’s Tony to you. Or Anthony. Or Tones, though Rhodey might have trade-marked that from when we were in MIT. Anyway, whatever you want to call me, as long as it’s not Mr. Stark, because that would defeat the whole disguise thing. ” Tony rambles, and Peter pretends not to hear the way Mr. Stark - _ Tony’s _ heartbeat speeds up when he gets up from the bed, clad only in a pair of tight red and gold boxers. He really hopes the other man won’t bring it up, except Tony makes an indignant noise, just as Peter’s bending to grab a part of sweatpants from his closet. 

“I’m sorry but I just — Are you wearing Iron Man edition Calvin Klein’s?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Peter says, blushing apologetically as he quickly pulls on a pair of grey sweatpants to go with his blue _ baby don’t Hertz me _tee. Tony “May um, bought them for me. Like, before everything of course.”

“Oh,” Tony says, walking past him to the door, and Peter realizes with a lurch that he actually might be taller than Mr. Stark now that he’s de-aged. The thought sends a warm jolt through his spine.

“Brunch?” Peter tries, pulling on a beanie to hide his bed-hair and grabbing his keys and student ID. 

  
“Brunch.” Tony responds, not looking Peter in the eye as they walk downstairs to the dining hall. 


	2. crush culture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look he’s a rich privileged dick who’s been taunting you since high school and I couldn’t do anything about it then — “ Tony takes a breath, “but like hell If i’m going to sit there listening to someone insult the smartest, bravest, most brilliant man I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ back with another chunk of a chapter, I have a flight in 5 hours so I wanted to get this out there before I have to go back to school, and my updating schedule takes a hit bc #the real world! this chap made me realize that maybe im a bit terrible at writing slowburn, like I always tend to go to more of a slow simmer, than slow burn? if that makes sense. 
> 
> also using this chapter to fill my starker bingo fill: Flash Thompson <3
> 
> anyway, I hope this makes you giggle at least a little bit because it totally hit me in that way, and as always thank you for your comments and kudos!! rlly appreciate it, special shout out to s_midnite for the best comment which actually made its way into the canon of this fic!

Turns out Peter understands just as much Tony does about the whole de-aging thing. 

“Are you sure you didn’t like try to blow it up or something?” Peter asks, shoveling in another mouthful of scrambled eggs. 

“Seriously,” Tony says, peeling an orange swiftly, ignoring the curious eyes of students who were filtering into the dining hall. They’d tried to get a table close to the back, but it’d been pretty packed and had to unceremoniously sit next to the waffle maker. “I’d done so much preliminary testing, and besides Dr. Strange touches it all the time, so I thought what the hell. And then boom! I pass out and the next time I wake up I’m twenty! ” 

“He doesn’t really touch it though? He just sort of does the circle wavy thing and it like floats.” Peter mentions, trying to ignore the flare of heat at seeing the column of the Tony’s throat when he takes a long gulp of his orange juice, because apparently his younger self really loves citrus. 

“Yes, I get it. Sue me for wanting to pretend I had wizard powers for a second.” Tony huffs, placing the glass down and Peter’s uncanny eyesight fixates on a drop of orange juice dripping from the corner of his mouth. He can’t help it, his thumb’s brushing away the edge of Tony’s bottom lip before his mind can catch up with what he’s doing. 

“S-sorry. You had — juice?” Peter chokes out, after a moment, his hand still frozen, palm cupping Tony’s smooth jaw as he just stares back at Peter, unblinking. 

“Oh, well thanks.” Peter’s sure he’s imagining the way Tony’s eyes flick down to his own mouth, the plush side of his lip slipping further into Peter’s thumb as he talks. “Did you get. The juice?” Tony asks, stilted and Peter’s higher brain function finally kicks in as he pulls back his hand, blushing. 

“Yes. Yeah. Sorry.” Peter apologizes again,staring anywhere that isn’t Tony’s mouth, because Fuck.  _ Fuck.  _

“Glad to know I don’t need napkins, if I’ve got you around.” Tony teases, popping a slice of an orange into his mouth, as if that hadn’t been one of the most embarrassing moments of Peter’s life. “I’m going to grab some tea, do you want anything?”   
  


“N-no, I’m fine. Thanks Mr. Sta —Tony. “ 

The second Tony gets up and walks away (his ass looking way too good in those skinny jeans) Peter puts his head in his hands, the shame of his obvious crush running through him. This clearly can’t get any worse, Peter thinks. But then again, life’s funny like that. 

“Hey Parker” Flash says, swaggering over to their table in a white Ralph Lauren button down, and Peter wished his superpowers included turning invisible. “Just curious, but a little birdy told me that Stark Industries dropped you this from their internship program.” 

Peter raises an eyebrow, “Where’d you hear that?”

“You know my friend Harry? From Harvard? He was visiting Stark Industries with his dad and asked about you for me, and funny enough the assistant didn’t even know who you are!” Flash sneers, and Peter hates that it gets to him. 

“N-No, I mean. Yes, I wasn’t working there this summer, but that’s because Mr. Stark —“ Peter’s eyes accidentally flit over to Tony, who’s making his way back to the table with his cup of tea “—was busy on some special business internationally, and so we didn’t really get a chance to work in the lab and um besides I had a summer job at Delmar’s —”

“Making sandwiches.” Flash snorts, “You do know we’re at MIT right? Making sandwiches doesn’t cut it over here.” 

Tony chooses that moment to sit down, unsubtly, stirring his tea . Flash’s eyes dart over to him, as if noticing for the first time Peter wasn’t sitting alone, despite the fact that Tony’s plate had been there the whole time. 

“Who’s your friend, Parker?”

“This is um my roommate —” 

“Anthony. Anthony Edwards. ” Tony says, his voice smooth where it cuts into Peter’s stammering. 

Flash’s eyes narrow, taking in Tony’s vintage Iron Maiden tee and then widening when he takes in the watch on Tony’s wrist. 

“Is that —” Flash gasps, “A Rolex  _ Cellini _ ?” 

“Yeah, I bought it after I sold a patent to Stark Industries.” Tony says, unfazed, hands underneath his chin as he stares at Flash. 

“W-wow.” Flash couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off Tony’s watch. Peter hated him. “What year are you? I haven’t seen you around, but somehow your face seems weirdly familiar.” Peter’s pulse jumped, hoping Flash wouldn’t make the connection of the photos of Young Tony Stark and the man in front of him. He knew he was obsessed with the man, almost weirdly as much as Peter was.    
  


“I’ve just got one of those faces.” Tony responds, nonchalant, “But I’m a sophomore. Just transferred” 

“Really, from where?” Flash says, taking the seat in front of Tony, “I’m Flash by the way. Flash Thompson.” 

“Columbia. I got bored once the grad students couldn’t even keep up with me. Wanted something a little more exciting. ” Tony says, checking his perfectly manicured nails, ignoring the introduction. 

“And MIT’s exciting?” 

“So far so good, well“ Tony pauses, before giving Flash a hard stare, “until you walked over. Now im reconsidering why I even applied here if they let morons like you in.”

Flash’s jaw twitches, his mouth twisting into an ugly shape, and Peter all but chokes on his piece of toast. 

“I know a trust fund when I see one. You’d be nothing without it, so stop shitting on other people just because they have more up here —” Tony says, pointing to his head, “ than you do in single cell in your body. Just because Daddy has connections, doesn’t mean you do. A real company, like Stark Industries, knows that. Maybe that’s why you’ve been rejected from their internship program four years in a row.”

“What - How’d you know - “ Flash stutters, and Peter is amazed at seeing his highschool bully flustered. 

“I just took a wild guess.” Tony finishes his tea, with a soft smirk on this face. “Peter, care to finish our conversation upstairs?” 

Peter doesn’t have time to nod, still in awe at what just happened, before Tony’s grabbing him by the elbow, and throwing a small wave to Flash, “See you later, Rash.”

“It’s  _ Flash!”  _ Flash squacks, indignant, but Tony doesn’t turn around, just walks to the trash disposal and dumps his tray with a grin. 

+

  
  


“Tony, you didn’t have to — “ Peter begins, once they’ve made it upstairs as he sits on the couch-bench in the middle of the room, while Tony leans against his desk. 

“Look he’s a rich privileged dick who’s been taunting you since high school and I couldn’t do anything about it then — “ Tony takes a breath, “but like hell If i’m going to sit there listening to someone insult the smartest, bravest, most brilliant man I know.” 

_ Smartest, bravest, most brilliant man I know.  _ Peter feels the praise run through him, landing with a fell swoop in his stomach. It’s too good to be true, it has to be, Tony doesn’t mean that, there’s no way. “Are you sure the time stone didn’t hit you in the head because last time I checked I was a mess.” 

“And rightfully so, you’re still learning. Growing. Evolving, you’re allowed to make mistakes. But as your mentor, what’s my excuse? I don’t have one I’m fifty five and --” 

“Not anymore you’re not.” Peter quips, unable to stop himself because it still doesn’t feel real. 

“Physically yes, “ Tony sighs, pointing to his forehead “but up here? It’s all the same. And I should’ve known better.” 

_ Sometimes I wish you didn’t know any better,  _ Peter doesn’t say as Tony crosses his arms, and all Peter can think about is kissing the pout off those lips. 

“I know I didn’t make it clear in the past,” Tony says after a moment, softer than Peter could anticipate, “But After Titan, after what we’ve been through, seeing you die --” 

Peter feels his eyes burn at the mention of the memory, the years of dust. For a second, the boy in front of him looks like the man he almost watched die, no matter how unscarred his skin is now. “Mr. Stark, you don’t have to — “

“But I want to. I need you to know how much you _ matter  _ to me.” Peter can see tears in Tony’s eyes, and he looks so  _ young _ like this, vulnerable.

“Peter, you are beautiful and kind and brilliant and I wish I was half the man you are now when I was your age.” Tony’s voice cracks in the end, and Peter wishes he could trust his limbs to pull the other boy into a hug and without breaking down himself. 

They sit there for a moment, eyes locked in a daze of emotion. Peter’s never felt more loved, more seen in his entire life, despite the feet of distance between Tony and him. He manages a watery chuckle, “So you mean you wish you  _ currently  _ were half the man I am now. You know, since you’re 20.”

Tony blinks, a small laugh falling into the space between them. “Jesus kid, you’re really fixating on this age thing huh?” Peter knows the words weren’t intended to carry any heat, but he feels the question curl into his toes, can’t help but lean forward a little when he says “And you’re not?”

Tony’s eyes sharpen, staring down at Peter, and Peter has never _wanted _anything more. It’s hasn’t even been twenty-four hours of seeing Mr. Stark in this new body, but Peter’s gone for it all the same. He could be fifty or twenty or thirty five and Peter imagines in all those lifetimes, he’d still choose Tony -- 

_ If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe _

_ I'd been married a long time ago _

“Is that — “ Tony’s the first one to break the silence, as Peter scrambles to grab his phone from his pocket, blushing at MJ’s ringtone. “Is Cotton-Eye Joe seriously your ringtone?”

“Only for MJ. She insisted.” Peter protests, looking at Tony apologetically. “I have to take this, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about lil ole me” Tony says, shooeing Peter away, before gracefully flopping down onto his bed and pulling out his Starkphone. His t-shirt rides up a little, revealing the sharp edge of hip and Peter momentarily forgets that he pressed answer, thinking of what it’d be like to press his nose against that piece of skin. 

“Earth to Peter, whatcha lookin at? This is Facetime you know.” MJ’s voice snaps him back to the present, and he blinks, dazed, senses whiplashing from Tony’s emotional outburst and now this. 

“O-Oh nothing, just like the floor. Anyway, what’s up” Peter stammers, and he hears Tony let out a small laugh. 

“Nothing much, my peter sense was just tingling so I thought, why not give my favorite arachnid a call.” Peter leans against his desk, purposely angling the camera to make sure Tony couldn't get in the frame, even if he tried. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” 

“No you didn’t um I was just... “ Peter searches for the words, “standing. In my room. Yeah. But I am kind of busy. So maybe we should talk later?” Peter’s about to hang up, especially since MJ’s eyes are narrowing suspiciously at him. 

Before she can get another word out, Tony asks from his side of the bed, “That was Michelle right? Didn’t know she went my MJ now. I always referred to her as your scary female friend. “ 

“Peter,” MJ’s voice rings loud over the speaker and Tony’s head jerks up from where he was lying down, realizing quickly that Peter had  _ not  _ hung up on MJ by the time he’d opened his stupid mouth. “Please explain to me why that voice sounds like a young version of your teenage dream fuck, Tony Stark” 

“Um that’s not — it’s not — just — my roommate?” Peter stumbles, words incoherent because Tony had definitley heard his name and _ teenage dream fuck _ in the same sentence and Peter wants to jump out of the goddamn window. Especially since Tony had gotten off his bed and was walking over to where Peter was awkwardly leaning on his desk, probably to say hi and introduce himself to MJ. 

“Hey there, Michelle, or sorry MJ — “ Tony says, slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders as he gets into the frame. Peter knows he should interrupt the head on collision that’s about to happen between his best friend and his crush, but he can’t think outside of the intoxicating smell of Tony’s cologne, how it’s mostly the same, if not a little sweeter than before. 

“Only my friends get to call me MJ. So Michelle’s fine.” She snaps back, crossing her arms as she leans back in her desk chair. 

“My apologies, Michelle. I just thought I’d introduce myself, I’m Peter’s roommate Anthony Edwards. I just transferred from Columbia.” 

“Anthony Edwards. Are you kidding me? Are you sure you’re not missing a last name there? Preferably  _ Stark _ ??” Peter knows that voice, it’s MJ’s conspiracy voice and he really should say something because this isn’t going to end well, and it hasn’t even been like eight hours and he’s already going to blow up this goddamn mission and  _ Oh God  _ —

Peter doesn’t realize he’s beginning to hyperventilate until Tony’s fingers find his own off-camera, palm squeezing, anchoring him. “Michelle your confusion is completely warranted, just as mine is at you referring to Peter as an arachnid.” 

MJ’s jaw drops open, there’s nothing she hates more than blackmail but she loves Peter more and knows how important his secret identity is to him. “It’s just a childhood nickname. He’s got a thing for spiders. It’s weird.” She lies, cooly and Tony smiles.

“Good to know. In terms of your suspicion you are correct, I am distantly related to Maria Stark, therein distantly related to Tony Stark. However, I’ve never met the man and I can only assume any similarity is due to the pure chance of genetics, don’t you agree?” Tony gives her a grin, still rubbing circles into Peter’s sweaty palms. 

“You know what Anthony, you got me there. Tony Stark is 55 and way out of Peter’s league anyway. It’s uncanny though how much you sound like his younger self, which of course I only know about because Peter here has a bit of an Iron Man obsession. You should ask him about it. Maybe let him call you Tony — ” 

“Alright I’m hanging up now” Peter blurts out, actually hanging up this time, the screen blacking out on MJ’s grin. Peter sags against his desk, realizing with a jolt that Tony had yet to untangle himself from where he was pressed against Peter in a half hug, still holding his hand. 

_ Oh my god I’m holding Tony Stark’s hand.  _ Peter’s brain sparks, tries to say something, anything, but Tony speaks first. “You doing okay? That was a close one. I’m really sorry about all this.” He doesn’t let go of Peter’s hand but pulls his arm back from Peter’s shoulder to make a gesture at his own face.

“N-No I’m fine. Thank you for handling that, I’m just not used to lying to MJ and I panicked.” 

Tony nods, running a hand through Peter’s hair, which like, is totally unexpected. 

_ This is not happening.  _ Tony’s fingers scratch at Peter’s scalp, fingers pulling at a loose curl so gently that Peter thinks he might’ve imagined it, except that he’s definitely half hard and if Tony were to come any closer, he’d feel the evidence pushed against his thigh. 

“So teenage dreamfuck huh?” Tony’s voice is low, and Peter can feel his breath on his neck, the warmth dizzying. Peter’s instincts were right, Tony was just a little shorter and Peter knows exactly how many inches he’d have to bend down in order to catch the other boy’s mouth. He wishes he could move, do something but his body is frozen, tight like a guitar string, trapped between his desk and Tony, and he doesn’t — this can’t —  _ unless _

“Too bad you’re twenty” Tony says finally, letting out a laugh before pulling back from Peter’s space and walking back to his bed, landing on his back with soft  _ thwump.  _ He’s stretched out, body relaxed as if he hadn’t been a second away from Peter’s hard -on, as if all of that — the hand holding, the hair scratching — was nothing,  _ nothing.  _

Peter could scream. 

His first instinct is to pull the suit on and go on a patrol to diffuse the energy thrumming through him but he just patrolled last night… which means that he can’t today because of Fury’s dumb rule, not for another month at least. The thought sends another burst of anger through Peter, and he makes the mistake of glancing at Tony, who’s sprawled on his back, reading a Hemmingway novel for class, his shirt pushed up so Peter’s eyes can drool over all that smooth tanned skin. 

Peter flinches as Tony’s other hand dips, scratching at the slight trail of hair leading down into his indecently tight skinny jeans, and worst of all, Tony’s put the book down and he’s giving Peter a lazy smile, that would also seem inviting if it were any other person than Tony Stark, but it’s  _ Tony Stark  _ and there’s no way he actually means it, because, because, because —

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” Tony smirks, and Peter would very much like to, thank you very much, but he can’t because Tony’s teasing just because he’s picked up on how weird being around a twenty year old version of Tony is for Peter, it’s just a game. It doesn’t mean anything.  _ Right?  _

He wants to ask, he really does, wants to pull out his phone and take a picture and then walk over and show it to Tony, preferably with a kiss. But it’s all still so  _ new,  _ him smiling at Peter, with none of the age, the time to restrain it, like he usually does. Even his hands are smooth, unscarred, as if they haven’t spent hours in the lab, tinkering. Peter never knew callouses could be a deal breaker, but it’s just enough to make him remember why he’s really here with Tony. Nick Fury’s eyepatch pops up in his head, and he shakes the thought, not wanting to fuck up the mission by accidentally fucking his roommate. 

“I’m just. Gonna go Shower. Cool.” Peter stammers instead, far from smooth, grabbing a towel and making a beeline out of the room. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come scream with me in the comments about how I managed to use Cotton Eye Joe to cock block Peter Parker, and also how denial just happens to be Peter's best friend because he seriously isn't handling this well hahahaha <3 
> 
> thank u for reading!!


	3. I touch myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter should be probably more ashamed at the hours he spent scrolling through the photos of @tonyedward’s feed. Peter also should most definitely not be jerking off to said photos of his roommate’s instagram. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! sorry for the delay in updating, school has been CRAZY but now the semester is done! I'm going to do my best to wrap up this fic in the next few weeks / month on break ~ this is a short chapter but much more tension to come!
> 
> thank you again for all your lovely kudos/comments, I'm so glad you guys enjoy this story!! it's been a lot of fun researching MIT in order to write this lol also I fully learned and downloaded photoshop just so I could make young tony's instagram so I hope u appreciate the visual content ;)

Considering everything, Tony’s identity doesn’t come up again after the Flash incident. If they notice the similarity, Peter’s Gen Z counterparts fail to bring it up. It makes Peter remember just how _ old _Tony is and unless you were obsessed like Peter, you wouldn’t have a clue what Tony Stark looked like thirty years ago. 

After Peter had introduced Tony to Gwen in their Theoretical Physics class, she’d actually pulled him aside later to make sure Peter understood _how super fucking hot like literally could eat sushi off his ass hot _his roommate was and had all but begged for Tony’s number.

_ You can just ask him yourself! _Peter had said, giving her a smile which he hoped hid just how much his chest stung at the idea of Tony and her in any capacity. 

It takes three weeks, which is around the time Peter first notices the pretty blonde from the middle row staring at Tony in their english class, for Peter to realize with a sharp pang that he might disturbed by the idea of Tony with _ anyone at all. _

Tony doesn’t even notice, not until the end of the week when the blonde finds them after class and asks for Tony’s snapchat or instagram because _ either works, I’m Andrew by the way. _

Peter puts on his best smile, when Tony rattles out his handle because SHIELD is nothing if not thorough when it comes to disguises, especially for attractive twenty-year olds. Peter should be probably more ashamed at the hours he spent scrolling through the photos of @_ tonyedward _’s feed. Peter also should most definitely not be jerking off to said photos of his roommate’s instagram. 

But Peter can’t help it, it’s the only way he gets through the way Tony blatantly flirts with _ Andrew _ in front of him, who’s apparently a senior on the lacrosse team and would totally love to _ hang sometime or whatever. _Tony’s got a hand on Andrew’s elbow at some silly joke which Peter’s only half-listening to because the other half of him is internally screaming. 

When they get back to the room, Peter doesn’t hesitate before grabbing his towel and speaker and running to the showers. 

He knows it isn’t exactly good for the environment with all the showers he’s taking, but it was the only time outside of class and studying where he could be away from Tony. Peter misses patrolling, misses being able to vent the blinding frustration building at the bottom of his spine by jumping off buildings and stopping petty crimes. But with Fury’s rule, it wasn’t an option and Peter didn’t really have any other methods of blowing off some steam. 

It doesn’t take him long to get hard, fingers clumsily clicking open the Instagram app on his waterproof Starkphone, his shower playlist already playing through his bluetooth. 

Tony’s profile is already pulled up, and Peter presses his forehead to the cool tile, the water pouring down his back in rivulets, staring at the glow of the screen. 

[ ](https://live.staticflickr.com/65535/49257510141_390b2e0d23_z.jpg)

He clicks on the latest photo, the one of Tony’s jaw, some sort of artsy rendition of the smooth expanse of skin Peter had found himself thinking about more and more with each passing day. 

“F-fuck” Peter groans softly, imagining Tony’s smooth palms wrapped around him. He could imagine all that snark, all that sass, bringing him closer and closer to the edge, until Peter was begging. His fist moves faster, and between that and the current Ariana Grande song that was playing, Peter hardly hears the bathroom door opening. 

_ I know we be so complicated _

_ But we be so smitten, it's crazy _

_ I can't have what I want, but neither can you _

Peter doesn’t stop, not even when the shower next to him turns on, because his brain’s skipping to the fantasy where it’s Tony’s voice saying _ teenage dreamfuck _ but this time actually doing something about it, pushing Peter against his desk, kissing him sharp and fast. 

_ 'Cause, baby, when push comes to shove _

_ Damn, baby, I'm a train wreck, too (too) _

_ I lose my mind when it comes to you _

“You know Peter,” Tony’s voice rings out, from the shower stall next to him, “I didn’t understand your obsession with late afternoon showers but I’m starting to see the appeal. The water is definitely hotter.”

Peter freezes, and he almost drops his Starkphone because_ no way _this was actually happening. 

“I mean don’t get me wrong, the water pressure is still abysmal but the temperature is _ significantly _ better, _ wow. _ ” Tony continues, before letting out an honest-to-god groan and Peter -- Peter’s traitorous dick _ twitches, _a spurt of pre-cum dripping onto Peter’s fist, from where he was still holding himself. 

“Y-Yeah.” Peter manages to say, because right, he should probably respond, and that’s all his brain can come up with considering the circumstances. He hopes he doesn’t sound as turned on as he is. 

“Also I like your shower playlist by the way, nothing like some Ari to make a shower more fun.” Tony says, “Boy have I had some _ fun _showers in my day. MIT included.” 

“Are you - Have you had shower sex in this bathroom?” Peter sputters out, unable to resist asking and Tony lets out a laugh. 

“Not this bathroom, no I mean I assure you, I got up to some serious shit back in my day in Baker but shower sex wasn’t one of them. We had a RA that was hell bent on making sure it never happened, signs and everything. Besides, the water pressure is truly subpar here.” Tony paused, and Peter could imagine his grin, “But East on the other hand...let’s just say those bathrooms have seen some things.” 

Peter bites back a moan, his brain unable to filter away the image of Tony, naked and wet, grinning underneath the showerhead. Peter stared at his dick, coming to the conclusion that there was only one inevitable way out of this “What kind of things, Tony?” 

“You really want to know kid?” Tony murmurs, a bit surprised Peter was entertaining his story. 

“I’m really curious to know what you got up to when you were my age, Mr. St- Tony.” Peter fumbles, trying to make his voice sound as genuine and unsexual as possible. 

“ I mean it’s not like shower sex was much different back in the eighties, but sure kid, I’ll paint you a picture.” Tony drawls, and Peter’s breath hitches as he begins to touch himself slowly, making sure the sound of skin on skin isn’t obviously noticeable. “I mean the craziest was Senior year, right after finals when four of my friends and I decided it would be fun to do coke until one of them got a messy nosebleed and ended up rinsing off in the shower.” 

“And for a while, we were all just watching until Mark, nosebleed guy, decided if he’s already in the shower he might as well be naked even though we were all waiting for him, doing lines on the sink counter. And well, if you’re coked up and one dude gets naked in shower then you’re all going to get naked in the shower. It was Dionysiun really -- the way it went down. Pun intended.” Tony chuckles to himself, and Peter’s close, so close, he just needs a _ little bit _more just -- 

“A good enough picture for you, Peter?” Tony asks, voice dipping teasingly low, and Peter’s orgasm hits him with hardly any warning, a breathy “Yes” leaving his lips. 

“The more you know.” Tony says, after a moment, once Peter’s caught his breath, the evidence of his indiscretion already washed away down the drain. But the shame of what he’d done remains and Peter leans his forehead against the shower tile, a tendril of want still curling around his stomach knowing that Tony was on the other side of this wall, so close yet so far. 

Peter closes his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine another world where he could give into his basest of desires and hook up with his very hot roommate. It’s college after all, if there’s ever a time to make reckless decisions because you were thinking with your dick and dick alone, now was the time. Of course in this universe, Anthony isn’t Tony Stark, and, doesn’t have the years of history that Tony and him share, or the fate of the Nation on his hands. 

As if on cue, the water turns cold. Peter turns off the shower, grabbing his towel and making a hasty exit, awkwardly saying bye to Tony, who just hums in response, clearly lost in the quiet warmth of his own shower. 

Peter dresses quickly in the room, not wanting to catch his roommate in his nude post-shower glow, because after all, at the end of the day, Peter is just a (Spider)_ man. _Sure he can stop buses with his bare hands, but post-shower Tony is really where he draws the line. 

As he grabs his backpack to walk to the library to get some work done, he can’t help but take one quick look at Tony’s instagram again and sigh softly. 

It was going to be a _ long _semester, considering Peter's on-track to falling disastrously in love with the one person he can't have. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahHHH! I'd love to hear from you <3 comments/kudos always welcome and always cherished <3

**Author's Note:**

> as always kudos are super appreciated, and come scream with me in the comments below! seriously, I have so many young! Tony feels and if you're reading this, I hope u do too 
> 
> as always, come message me on discord intoxicatelou#7579 to talk about starker !!!


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